by Claire Adams
The rock that held my house key eluded me. I screamed out in frustration and threw a rock from the neighbor’s yard to my own.
“Can I help you?”
My breath caught as I looked up to see a strongly built man standing at the corner of the house. He looked to have been just woken up and stood there with sweatpants and no shirt.
The no shirt part is what had me so distracted. Even in the moonlight I could see more muscles on his stomach than I probably had in my entire body.
“Um. Well, I uh…I’m looking for my house key.”
“And you keep it in my flower bed?”
The way he stood there looking at me, it was like I amused him. He watched as I struggled to stand up and then fidgeted with my dress. As much as I tried to hide the level of my intoxication, I’m pretty sure there was no hiding it. The look on his face showed enough pity toward me that I knew he could tell I was drunk.
“I’m uh, yes I did hide it here. It’s a rock. Well, it looks like a rock. It’s a fake rock with a key in it. But I can’t find it because they all look the same.”
I watched as the mystery man walked closer to me and looked at the rocks surrounding the house.
“What’s your name?” he asked me.
“I’m Katelyn. Katelyn Peterson.”
I waited for him to respond with his name, but he did not. Instead, he reached down and grabbed a rock from the back of the pile of rocks. He handed it to me and I instantly knew that it was the rock I had been looking for. It was light and I could hear the jingle of the key as I moved the rock in my hand.
“There you go Katelyn.”
His voice was smooth, seductive and sexy, which was hard to pair up with the body that stood in front of me. The man in front of me looked more like a killer than a seducer. The muscles in his arms bulged with definition. Not bulk, but a refined sense of power. Even the way he clenched his jaw made me think of someone who was hiding something and wasn’t going to let you find out.
“Wow, thank you. That was pretty amazing. How did you know which one it was?”
“Just luck I guess,” he said as he looked me over.
I dropped the rock as I tried to get the key out and he quickly retrieved the key from the grass. I’m not sure if he was so helpful because I was annoying him by waking him up in the middle of the night or if he was just a nice person.
He took the key and walked over to my front door. I tried to keep up, but my short legs and high-heels were no match.
By the time I got to my door, he had it opened and stood there with the key in his hand.
“Goodnight Katelyn.”
His hand touched mine as he passed me the key and instantly my body reacted with a surge of energy. I didn’t know who he was, or why he was living in the old abandoned neighbor’s house, but he could touch me with those hands any time he wanted.
Chapter 2
“So how long have you lived here? I didn’t know anyone had moved in,” I asked the gorgeous mystery man.
“I just moved in.”
“Ahh, so you’re new to town? How’s that going for you? Wait, why did you come to Bain? It’s not like we are a happening town.”
As I kept talking I tried to force myself to be quiet but I just couldn’t stop. The more I looked at him, the worse my tongue-tied condition got. The light of my porch intensified his muscles and I’m pretty sure my brain actually stopped working.
I tried not to make a fool of myself, but his body was just too much for my brain to comprehend. He had muscles so defined he looked like he could be one of those Navy Seals or something. I fixated on his naked chest with the desire to feel it against my body. Every impulse jetting through me said not to touch his chest. Yet my hand had a mind of its own.
Sure enough, without warning, and likely fueled by the large alcohol courage I had…
…I touched his chest.
Right there on my front porch in the middle of the night and without warning. My drunken hand reached out and touched his chest! It would have been bad enough if that’s all that happened, but I couldn’t stop myself. My verbal garbage kept coming out.
“Oh my god, you work out. Yeah, you definitely work out. Is that all you do all day long is workout?”
He stood there with the same calm and cool look as when he first saw me on my knees in his flower bed. Hmmm…he seemed to be the quintessential strong silent type. His face was serious and observed me with just the slightest bit of a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.
“To answer your first question, I’m here to relax and get away for a little while,” he said, and looked down at my drunken hand still sitting on his chest. “Yes, I work out.”
Maybe it was the alcohol wearing off, but I suddenly realized my hand was on his chest and I removed it. My eyes looked at his and then down at his chest again. What had come over me? This was not my usual behavior. Then again, a sexy guy like this on my front porch was not my usual evening either.
I could feel the flush of embarrassment start filling up my face. I stopped looking at his chest and made eye contact with him, but that was worse than looking at his chest.
“Oh, alright. Yeah, I kind of thought that you were a workout kind of guy. I like to run. But I don’t get out as much as I would like and I certainly don’t run for long distances. Maybe down a few blocks and back. Like one mile tops. I take pictures. That’s what I like to do. You know…photography and that kind of stuff?”
I wanted to stop talking. I just couldn’t send the impulse from my brain to my mouth to make it happen.
“Well, you have a nice night Katelyn.”
He turned to walk away and I stood on my porch and watched him. I waited for him to look back at me, ready with one last wave goodnight. But he didn’t turn around.
“Goodnight!” I yelled as he disappeared around the corner of the neighbor’s house toward the back door.
I closed my front door and stood inside pondering who this man was and what he was doing in tiny little Bain, Missouri. He had this quiet calmness about him that was fascinating. I had never met a man who seemed to have so much self-control, like a vigilant soldier with his senses finely tuned.
I turned the lights off in my house and tried to look out at the neighbor’s house. I just wanted to see if there was any movement inside of his house. Perhaps I secretly wanted to get one last peek at that chiseled chest of his? But I was disappointed and there wasn’t a single sign of movement throughout his house.
As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but fantasize about being with the gorgeous neighbor. I had not even considered another man since Michael’s death, so it surprised me how easily this man was filling my thoughts. Normally the memory of Michael and our six years together caused me too much pain to even think about it for long. He had been my first love, my high school sweetheart. After losing Michael a year before, I never thought I could ever move on. Maybe my interest in the gorgeous stranger was a signal that I might be ready now.
As I drifted off to sleep, I saw the stranger’s face in my mind: his chiseled serious face, with just the right touch of softness. His demeanor was so relaxed and calm for such a late hour. It struck me as odd that he was so readily awakened in the middle of the night, but I was happy he did wake up. Getting to meet him was just what I needed to give me hope that someday I could move on from my grief about Michael’s death.
Chapter 3
“Are you alright?” Rebecca said loudly into the phone.
I’m not sure if she was actually loud or if my body was reacting horribly to the large amount of alcohol I had consumed the night before.
“Shhhh, not so loud,” I said as I tried to pry my eyes open.
“I’m talking in a regular voice. Are you just getting up? Geeze Katelyn it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon.”
Sitting up in my bed I squinted with one eye as I looked at the clock. I couldn’t remember ever sleeping in that late, even on a Sunday. Typically I had my days filled
with so many things to do I would wake up out of pure worry that I wouldn’t get them all done.
“I guess I am,” I said with a smile.
“So you’re alive and I can call off the search crews, great.”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for coffee. I’m just going to nurse this hangover for today.”
“Take some aspirin, drink some water, oh and some orange juice too.”
“Alright. Alright. I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
My bladder was about to explode and if Rebecca had not willingly hung up, I’m sure I would have just done it myself. Rebecca was a kind soul who really did care about everyone. After losing my parents to illness and Michael to a car accident, Rebecca had been the best person in the world to lean on.
As I brushed my teeth the memory of the gorgeous stranger hit me and I had to go look out the window. It didn’t look any different over there at the neighboring house. I watched intently to see if I noticed any curtains moving as he walked past, or perhaps I would get lucky enough to see him come outside again. I tried to peer around to the garage out back to see if there was a vehicle there, but I couldn’t see from my bedroom.
I moved my snooping self down to the kitchen as I made a cup of coffee. The sweet and bitter taste hit my pallet with a bang and I could feel the caffeine start rushing through my body. I needed that desperately.
The memory of the stranger’s body still burned in my brain, I could still feel his warm olive skin on my hands. I licked my lips with desire as I thought about his lips: their perfect color and roundness; I wanted to feel them against mine. It was like sweetness on my mouth as I thought about the neighbor and how he could please me with those lip.
My eyes stayed focused on his house, just waiting for him to come out shirtless like he had done the night before. My body ached to see him again. I didn’t even know his name, but I was filled with thoughts of desire. What would his lips feel like on my body? Oh, how I would love to feel them softly moving over every inch of me. Slowly moving from my neck, down to my nipple and further down to bring me to a tremendous explosion.
With my coffee in hand, I went out my back door to see if he was anywhere to be seen. I looked around his garage, but there wasn’t a car there. It looked just as empty has it always had. A sinking feeling came over me. He was real, right? The idea that he might not have really been there the night before haunted me. I know I had been drunk, but was it possible to be so drunk you imagined a person that didn’t exist?
As I stood in my backyard looking at his house, I was compelled to get closer and closer to the building. I could feel my heart start quickening with each step. One foot in front of the other and I made my way into the neighbor’s backyard. I placed my hand on the side door to the garage and slowly twisted the doorknob. It opened.
When I looked into the garage, it was totally empty. This seemed extremely odd to me. If someone had really just moved in, surely they would have some boxes or other personal belongings that they would be storing in the garage.
Confusion filled me as I walked up to the house. I placed my face against one of the windows and looked inside. The same old furniture that had sat in there for the last five years was still there.
The Anderson’s had been killed in a car accident and they had no children. Five years had gone by, but I still remembered it like it was yesterday. They had been arguing for days before the accident. Most of the town believed that Mr. Anderson had purposely driven them off the road. But no one would ever know for sure, the event was officially listed as an accident. Their home was given to a cousin who lived out of town. We all thought the cousin would list the house for sale, but year after year it stayed empty.
I walked around to the front of the home and without thinking, I knocked.
A flash of regret quickly shot through me. What if he was there? I would look crazy to him: peering in his windows, looking in his garage, knocking on his door; all for no good reason at all. Well in my head I had a good reason. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see if that electricity I had felt the night before was something real or just something I had imagined.
I stood timidly waiting in anticipation. I wanted to see him again, but then I was nervous at the possibility as well. There was no reason for anyone to come to this small town in the countryside of Missouri, well no good reason at least. He said he had come for a break, but still; no one came to our small town for a break either. Everyone who lived in Bain was born there or had the unfortunate luck to have fallen in love with someone who lived there. People just didn’t move to small towns like Bain nowadays.
After standing for a few minutes in front of the neighbor’s house, I came to the conclusion that I either totally imagined this guy or he wasn’t home. I slowly made my way back over to my house and called Rebecca back.
“Hey, have you heard of anyone moving into the Anderson’s old house?”
“No. Why?
I hesitated to tell her about the gorgeous guy from the previous night. What if my brain really had made the whole thing up?
“Oh, no reason, I just thought I saw a light on over there.”
“Well, I know the cousin was going to try and rent the house out or sell it or something. But I haven’t heard of anyone being interested. Plus, I think we would have noticed a moving truck if someone had decided to move in.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Okay, thanks.”
I hung up and was even more confused than before. Rebecca was right. I would have noticed a moving truck over there. I’m almost always home.
This was getting more and more baffling by the moment.
Chapter 4
The days went by and I didn’t see the mysterious neighbor at all. I looked out in the morning, snuck a peak around dinner and even woke up in the middle of the night to see if I saw any movement over there.
Surely, his appearance could have been some sort of alcohol-induced psychosis, but my body could not accept that. If I closed my eyes, I could still remember what his skin felt like under my fingertips. I still felt the hard muscle of his chest and the warm flush of embarrassment that filled my body. I had to get my mind off of him. Only a couple more weeks left before my big photography exhibit and I still needed at least three more pieces to show.
Since Michael’s death, I had resigned myself to the recluse life of a photographer. My days, and sometimes my nights, were filled staring through the lens of my Canon EOS professional camera. It had been a gift from Michael and was by far one of my most treasured belongings.
When not wrapped up in the world through my camera lens, I was painfully restoring every aspect of my grandparents’ old Victorian home. I hand-stripped the wood trim and was about to start the process of staining all the pieces before putting them back up.
The night was clear and the moon full on this particular night, so I grabbed my camera and went for a walk. A lot of what people didn’t understand about photography was the amount of time an artist took to find just the right picture. It was a delicate balance between the light, objects and my own skills.
As I walked down an old dirt road just outside of town, I finally found just the right angle for the picture I wanted. The woods nearby skimmed the bottom of the brilliant moon and the sky was so clear that it seemed as though every star in the galaxy was shining brightly in the sky.
I lay down and peered through my lens to find just the right balance of light for the shot I wanted. I was so enveloped in my own little world and the photographic process that I didn’t hear the pounding of footsteps until they were right over me.
“Are you alright?”
I heard his smooth, calm voice and my body reacted with instant acknowledgment. It was him; it was the gorgeous neighbor from the other night. I snapped a couple pictures and slowly moved my camera away from my face.
“Yep, just taking some pictures,” I said looking up from the ground.
“I see that.”
His quietness
was uncomfortable and I sprang to my feet.
In the moonlight, I saw the familiar shirtless figure that I had been searching for over the last several days.
“Where have you been?” I blurted out.
A smile broke through his cool expression. It was the first real emotion I had seen on his face.
“Oh, have you been looking for me?” he said as he took a step toward me.
His movement into the close proximity of me had by pulse racing. I was more nervous than I remembered being the night I met him. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I couldn’t seem to swallow. The power this man had over my thoughts was incredible.
“I came over to thank you for making sure I got home safely the other night.”
“You really shouldn’t drink and act like a fool. You could have been taken advantage of.”
My face flushed quickly, but this time I felt a burn of anger. Who was he to tell me I acted like a fool? I’m an adult; I can have a good time with my girlfriends. I was responsible and took a cab.
“W-what??? I’m a fool?”
The question left my mouth before I could stop myself.
“Yes. You let a complete stranger have a key to your house and open your door for you.”
“I felt safe.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have.”
“I shouldn’t feel safe around you?”
He was trying to pretend like he was a dangerous man, well maybe he was in some other aspect of his life. But the way he looked at me, I could tell he wouldn’t harm a woman ever.
“You shouldn’t feel safe around any man. They only have one thing on their mind.”
Before I could respond, he was there, right next to me. His arm wrapped around my waist and I felt his hand on my back, pressing me into his sweaty body. Dazed, I just stood there. My camera in one hand and my other hand placed firmly on his chest. Oh, the delight of feeling his skin again. I prepared myself to be kissed.
